


Seven Days

by Eicosanoids



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: But mostly fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eicosanoids/pseuds/Eicosanoids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Seven days was all it took for his resolve to crumble. </i>
</p>
<p>What happened in the days between Kill the Moon and Mummy on the Orient Express.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Days

**Seven Days**

“Hello?”

There was silence on the other end of the line as the Doctor held his breath, trying to distinguish whether it was Clara on the other side.

Seven days. Seven days was all it took for his resolve to crumble. It had been a Wednesday when he had decided to take both her and Courtney to 2049 to the moon.  It was never meant to end with a slammed TARDIS door.

Now it was another Wednesday. But a Wednesday without Clara.

_Please be there._

“You shouldn’t begin a conversation with a question. Makes it seem as though you’ve got the wrong person.” The familiar Northern accent crackled into the receiver.

And exhale.

“But I haven’t,” The Doctor replied back, relief thick in his words as he leaned against the frame of the TARDIS door. “Hello Clara.”

 

 

**Six Days**

Clara didn’t slam the phone when he called so the Doctor took it as a good sign. To call again. But once again, she hadn’t budged on the topic of hopping back on board the TARDIS when he offered it to her.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. What you do every day…I don’t think I can do it. “

He wanted to press forward but stopped himself, not wanting to rile her up even further. But her words were as sharp as knives, digging deep into his hearts. If there was anyone in the entire universe who he felt he could spend the rest of his lives with (he didn’t know how many he had now, it was a lottery), it would be her.

It would always be her.

Just as he was going to turn his thoughts into words, Clara quickly apologized before explaining that she had to go to a teacher’s meeting. When the line went dead, only then he realized he forgot to apologize.

 

 

**Five Days**

“I’m sorry.” It was the only way he could begin the conversation as he stood outside of her flat, lingering in the doorway awkwardly. It was the first time he had entered through the front door like a proper, civilized person. The TARDIS was parked just out in the back somewhere; he had decided not to station it in her living room as usual.

If Clara was surprised by his sudden appearance –or apology-, she didn’t show it on her face. If the Doctor was looking closely at her, it seemed as though she had just gotten home from work. A hint of exhaustion lingered on her face and in the back of his mind; he wondered just how she managed to live both lives simultaneously.

But then again, she had always been impossible.  Despite her weariness, she gave a small smile before she opened the door even wider to let him in.

“Come in. Would you like some tea?”

 

 

**Four Days**

“I don’t know how you do this all day,” The Doctor wondered out loud as he lingered by the doorway of her classroom. His presence must’ve been unexpected because Clara nearly jumped out of her skin, whipping her head sharply to give him a surprised look. “Well it’s my job. Can’t exactly just leave it whenever I wanted to, can I?”

_But you left me just like that_ , he wanted to protest.

But then again, he hadn’t been the most kind to her. Or even the least bit respectful. The Doctor tried to look sheepish, ducking his head as a sort of apology before breezing into her classroom. He tried to take a seat at one of the desks, somehow his gangly limbs managed to fit. When fully seated, he glanced at the quotation written on the board.

“ _I'll walk where my own nature would be leading. It vexes me to choose another guide,”_ He read out loud before turning back to Clara with a raised eyebrow. “So what does that mean, teach?”

Maybe he was acting too eagerly or maybe Clara was just so amused by the image of him squished in one of the seats of his class. Either way, he got Clara to laugh before she started to teasingly explain the quotation by Bronte.  The energy in her words as she explained, it was hard not to get drawn into what she was describing.

He should start speaking less, he wondered to himself.  Or maybe he had just learned how to listen.

 

 

**Three Days**

He knew that eventually he’d have a run-in with the soldier when he lingered at the school. The Doctor hadn’t even rounded the corner to where Clara’s classroom was before he was stopped by the man, a hand stopping him in his tracks.

While a scowl initially started to make its way onto his face, the man spoke before the Doctor was ready to tell him off.

“She’s meeting with a parent right now about a student’s progress. Best that you don’t disturb them until they’re done,” Danny explained. He let go suddenly once he realized that the Doctor wasn’t going off anywhere. “It shouldn’t be too long though. Maybe you could pop off into the back and check out what’s up with the school sprinklers. I’ll let her know where you are.”

The Doctor wasn’t expecting to hear that from the man. Even when he looked suspiciously at the man’s face, there was no antagonism to be found.

He really did mean well which was comforting if a bit unexpected. He didn’t think for a second that Danny didn’t know what was going on between Clara and him. But even so, Danny wasn’t trying to rub it into his face.

He chose to be kind instead. 

“I suppose I’ll check it out if no one else can do the job,” The Doctor decided grudgingly as he turned around. “Thanks….Danny.”

“Hey!” The Doctor paused to turn his head at the sound, looking back at the PE-no, maths teacher.

“Clara doesn’t hate you, you know. And….I don’t think she can. Or should.”

 

 

**Two Days**

“You know you can park the TARDIS in the living room if you’d like,” Clara offered as she sat, curled up against one arm of the couch. The Doctor sat right next to her, albeit more stiffly as he watched the TV. There was a movie playing, something with centurions. Not that any of them could ever hold a candle to Rory, he thought offhandedly.

Glancing to his side, the Doctor shrugged his shoulders. “It’s alright. It would have blocked the TV screen if I parked here,” He explained. But the real reason was that he wanted to be less imposing on Clara’s personal life. He didn’t have a stake in it –not that he ever did anyways. “Wouldn’t have been able to watch some good old fashioned Roman sparring,” He added as afterthought.

She laughed at his remark, before she scooted closer to him on the couch, leaning her head against his shoulder.  He stiffened from the movement but quickly relaxed into it as if it was the most natural thing in world. “Mmmm, you’d know all about it wouldn’t you? Been there, done that? Oh, I’ve always been meaning to ask. Have you ever met Marcus Aurelius?”

“The philosopher? Oh he’s a riot,” said the Doctor. “A fan of olives. A really big fan of them, I think he wasn’t impressed when I accidentally burned his olive tree.”

“You’d think?” Clara replied back with a raised eyebrow. “Well, tell him I’m a fan of his if you ever see him again.” With that, she leaned her head back towards the screen.

She didn’t ask to travel with him; the Doctor noted but tried to push the thought to the back of his head. He didn’t want to think about it for now. For now, he wanted to enjoy the moment. Slowly almost tentatively, he raised one of his arms to wrap around her shoulders.

When she didn’t move away, he decided it was the most important victory of the night.

 

 

**One Day**

If anyone asked, he was going to say that his body moved on its own accord.

He was just about to make an exit after dinner. He insisted he could cook –despite Clara’s doubts- and ended up making a delicious pasta dish for the two to share. Besides, he pointed out when they were arguing over the cooking, she had just finished marking all thirty of her students’ essays. She deserved to take it easy.

She seemed to have enjoyed the meal which pleased him more than it should have. “You should’ve just been a cook when you were undercover,” Clara said as she polished off her plate. “You’d have put your skills to better use.”

It was a compliment that made him chuckle throughout the evening until he decided that it was getting late and he should be taking his leave. The Doctor had slowly figured out when he overstayed his welcome. Or maybe he didn’t –since Clara seem disappointed that he was leaving- but he was still tiptoeing around her.

While he was putting his coat back on, Clara lingered by the doorway. “You can stay the night.”

He froze for a millisecond before he continued to button his jacket. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

_Because if I stayed, I don’t think I’d ever leave._

But instead of speaking his thoughts, he moved. He took a step towards Clara who was still waiting for his answer. He raised his hand to cup her cheek and tilted her head upwards to his. She must’ve realized what he was doing but she didn’t resist, eyes widening ever so slightly when he leaned forward to press his lips against her’s.

She didn’t pull away from the kiss until he did, and that was only because he was worried that she would be deprived of oxygen (if it was up to him, he could go on forever). He was silent for a few moments, his eyes seeking out her’s in the dim lighting. But her eyes were unreadable.

 “I don’t want us to end on a bad note,” She finally spoke, her voice barely louder than a whisper. A pause. “One day, take me somewhere amazing.”

 

 

**Zero (WEEKS LATER)**

“So what kind of place are we headed to now?”

Clara was almost hesitant as she stepped onto the TARDIS, as if worried that his ship would hold a grudge against her. Not that Clara should be worrying, the Doctor mused as his hands lingered on the controls. The TARDIS had taken a liking to Clara and even his ship had disapproved of his actions when Clara had left. His ship mourned for the loss of his companion perhaps just as much. If it was really their last adventure, perhaps he could be a little selfish and take her dancing; it had always been something he desired but was too afraid to ask. The fear of her refusing and calling him crazy for not taking them on their usual romp stopped him from asking.

But if it was really their last, he wanted to risk it.  Lifting his head back up towards Clara, he smiled –a rarity- before pulling down the lever. 

 “A good one.” 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this during my break at work. So much different from what I usually enjoy writing....! But it was fun. Might've completely went against canon in this fic but I tried. 
> 
> Read and review, please :) It would be nice.


End file.
